


You Can Step On My Feet

by Oboeist3



Category: Eureka
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Tag: 1x9 Primal, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5205713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oboeist3/pseuds/Oboeist3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's too focused." Taggart scoffed, obviously still a bit miffed by the stern gaze his earlier encouragements had earned. "His rational mind is overruling his subconscious. All ego, no id."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Step On My Feet

**Author's Note:**

> I can explain! Actually nope, I've got nothing. I was just rewatching Eureka and thinking gay thoughts and this happened. So yea. Hope you all enjoy it though!

"He's too focused." Taggart scoffed, obviously still a bit miffed by the stern gaze his earlier encouragements had earned. "His rational mind is overruling his subconscious. All ego, no id."

Jack couldn't say he understood the psychological semantics of that particular summing up of Stark's character, but restrained himself from asking, lest he be ridiculed and the process further delayed. Instead he hooked onto the one word he comprehended and agreed with. To attack Stark's immense ego might send enough anger through his system to gather the nano-cronies here.

He crouched down so that they were at eye level, wide baby blues staring directly at Stark's own forest-at-sunset green. (He pushed back the thought of how pretty they were, not a great time.)

"Hey. You are stupid, selfish, egomaniacal sack of crap, and I am astonished that you have gotten as far as you have." he growled, channelling all his anger and frustration and wrath he'd ever felt towards the bastard into each word. But aside from a slight widening of pupils, it elicited no response in the man. The comeback is quick and appropriate.

"Coming from you, that's a compliment." Damn that slight smirk he coupled with it, the one that threatened to make his face flush crimson. Jack was no flustered schoolgirl and he needed to keep his mind sharp to fix this mess.

"Ok, slight change of plan." he breathed out, righting himself.

"Well, it's good to know the fate of the world depended on your last one." Zoe said, the sarcasm made even shriller by the microphone. His lips pursed, but he couldn't lecture her now. He needed to think.

Ok, so anger wasn't going to do it. Stark was too used to that, his logic easily circumvented the daily annoyances of several hundred brilliant and eccentric scientists. Fear wouldn't work either, the man was a walking shark, lean, cruel, and used to getting his way. No, the only thing that was even feasible was to shock him into not using that brilliant brain of his. But how?

Jack glanced at Allison for a moment, then shook his head. Stark was well aware of his attraction to the DOD liaison, knew it up close and personal. He wouldn't like him to make a move on her, but he wouldn't be surprised. It wasn't beyond his scope of reason. The only thing that Jack knew that Stark had _no_ idea of was -

Shit.

The Sheriff didn't bother trying to rationalize his way out of this uncomfortable solution. He'd been forced to deal with his own shortcomings too often as a Marshal. This would work, it needed to, and he knew deep down he'd never have been able to keep this secret long in this fucking town. Still, might as well have some ambiance before his inevitable doom.

He darted over to the booth, tapping a finger on the glass like a fish tank. "Hey Spencer, could you play something uh," A look back at Stark, maybe the last good look he'll get at him. "Romantic?"

Confusion cracked across three-fourths of the company, but thankfully Spencer just rolled with it.

"No problem."

Jack returned to Stark, (he really should be thinking of him as Nathan right now), but his mental narration hasn't caught on just yet.

"We're going to serenade them into submission now." he deadpanned, looking at him coolly, almost amused. Almost.

"Just sit and....don't freak out." he said, his hand cupping St-Nathan's cheek just as the jazzy music floated over the speakers. He stared at him, puzzlement crinkling new lines around his eyes, forest-at-sunset eyes, eyes that hold a fire large enough to make the world burn and laugh as it crumbled to ash. Jack wished he wasn't entranced by that destructive power, that chaos, but he is. He's always been a sucker for danger.

Jack kissed Nathan Stark like a lone ship against the armada, well prepared to sink if only to take the rest of them down with him. He held nothing back, no caution, no fear. There's no point in that. If this is his only shot at kissing Nathan, he wanted it to be everything he'd never get to do in peacetime.

The shock in his eyes confirmed that he had no idea this was even a possibility, but it faded within seconds into a hazy lack of thought that fueled a foreign want in Jack's chest, he wanted to reduce him to sensation and make that brilliant brain fry. Nathan's hands bunched into his uniform, but he wasn't pushing him away, just holding onto something. Much in the same way he doesn't stop him from prying open his jaw and tasting every inch of his mouth.

It's black coffee and divorce scotch and there's a forgotten bracket from teenage crossbite on the back of one of his molars that almost cut his tongue but Jack could hardly bring himself to care because he's kissing Nathan Stark and he doesn't want it to end.

"They're coming your way, Carter. I repeat, they're headed your way. Do you copy? Hello?" Jo's voice rang from his communicator, tinny and shocked, and he doesn't hear one word of it.

He did hear the bang of the door as it was slammed open, forcing him to pull away from Nathan, red-faced and out of breath.

"It worked." he gasped, not quite able to believe it. The thunder of dress shoes on linoleum was a drumbeat right before the orchestra's last peak, tens of Starks briskly entering the room, heading right for him.

"I hope you have a plan." Allison remarked dryly, and he couldn't really blame her, considering what he just did.

"Eh, sort of." he admitted, shrugging.

"I look....pissed?" said Nathan, his mind still on reboot.

A flick of the eyes to the booth revealed mixed ejaculations, something like 'Oh my God, look at all of them!' from Henry, and some form of hushed awe from Fargo.

By this point, the first of the Starks have reached him, yanking him away. Allison tried to pull him back, but a group of them surrounded her, cutting them off.

"Carter!" she called, grasping desperately, but Jack just stood and let himself be taken by the wave pulling at each of his limbs, accepting of his fate. A hell of a way to die. Certainly a bang. He grinned, because as stupid as it was, it was worth it. His eyes fluttered closed, and he breathed his last breath. Or so he thought.

"Stop!" screamed Nathan, now standing on the chair like it was the last mast on the battleship. And amazingly, they did. Allison took advantage of it.

"Spencer, now!" The noise burst from the speakers, and all the nano-Starks were reduced to dust in a blink. Those swarmed fell like logs to the floor, Jack hardest of all. He was battered, covered in tiny dead robots, and he might have dislocated his shoulder.

A normal day in Eureka.

Fargo was already out of the booth, checking on the status of his mentor. "Dr. Stark, are you all right?"

He man stood, brushed the dust off of his dress shirt, straightened his tie, and ripped off Fargo's little sensor without so much as a flinch. "Fargo, never ever, ever mess with my cerebral cortex again." With that pronouncement, he stormed out, leaving Jack with no way to explain, even if he'd had one.

* * *

Later that night, Jack stood in a suit he hadn't worn since his friend Mike's wedding five years ago, munching the little hor dourves Vincent had prepared and trying not to sulk. He wasn't succeeding. Even as he bantered with Zoey about Spencer and tickets, his heart wasn't in it. A fact she saw quicker than he did.

"Vincent's really outdone himself, huh?" he said, a pathetic attempt at smalltalk. She wasn't having it.

" _You_ outdid yourself." His face must have shown his lack of comprehension. "Stark. It was quite a kiss." she said pointedly.

He blushed slightly. "It was just for show. Just to shock him."

"Mhm. Do I look that naive?"

"You don't have to worry, Zo. Nothing's happening there." he said, and he didn't quite manage to keep the bitterness out.

"I'm not worried. I mean, I'm not happy either, but I don't know. I mean, maybe this is what's supposed to happen." she said with a slight shrug. "And don't cut yourself short. Anyone, Stark included, would be lucky to have you." she insisted, punching him in the side. He grinned. Despite everything she put him through, moments like these made him love her even more.

He looked out over the sea of well-dressed scientists and saw him. Clad in a grey Armani suit that fit him perfectly, but for once he didn't look in place. He was shuffling on his feet, curling and uncurling his fists, looking over the heads between them and then quickly away. He was nervous, Jack realized, and it made his heart squeeze in his chest.

Before logic could halt him, he was walking over, snatching two cocktails from a tray along the way. He stood hesitantly before him, holding the drink out like a peace offering. Nathan carefully took one.

"Carter."

"Stark."

An awkward silence fell between them as they sipped their drinks, interrupted eventually by a discrete cough from Nathan.

"About earlier." he said, but nothing more.

"I'm not going to apologize." Jack stated frankly, his certainty immovable.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Who said I wanted you to?"

Despite all the doubt, a kernel of hope popped with those words, only to be quickly buried. He wouldn't let him use this against him, anything but this.

"I just wanted to point out," Nathan said neutrally. "that I was divorced about six hours ago and you are still wearing your wedding ring."

Jack looked down at the article in question. It was true. He hadn't taken it off from the day Abby put it on his finger. Not in the shower, not to clean. It was spotted and warped and probably half-fused to his finger. Taking it off would mean more than physical pain. It'd be admitting his own failure.

His gaze slid back up to Stark, the forest-at-sunset eyes, the neatly trimmed goatee, the barely contained curls he'd always wanted to set free. Maybe it was just a crush, but he didn't think so. No evidence to support his theory, but that gut sensation of when you know there's something to be found. He didn't want to lose it. Not when he actually had a shot.

Slowly, he slid off the band of gold from his finger and placed it carefully on the pocket of his jacket. The sleek smirk it earned on Nathan's face was enticing.

"Do you want to dance?" Jack asked, holding out a hand. "I'll let you lead."

"I'd be honored."

**Author's Note:**

> Title's a song reference btw (lol what's new) Brownie points if you can guess from where!


End file.
